Unknown
by aradia1
Summary: Set in an AU in past times, Helga's world is ripped apart one night when the village she grew up in is destroyed, and she is taken away from everything she knows. A soldier takes pity on her, and purchases her, to keep her from disappearing from his life, because for some reason he wants to keep her, despite her defiant nature. But how will the world he comes from accept her?
1. Chapter 1

It has been a very long time. I don't own Hey Arnold. I don't know what to name this. If anyone has any ideas, feel free to share them :) This is an AU set in the past.

* * *

It was the thundering of horse shoes that woke her from her sleep. It had been a dreamless sleep. The festivities of the Spring Equinox had been exhausting. She had drank and eaten then gone to bed while everyone else still enjoyed themselves. It was still chilly in the nights and evenings, so she was fully dressed. Not too long afterwards she heard the first screams. Then she could smell smoke.

Helga sat up in the dark, and looked towards a window. There was light. No, not light, fire! Then she heard the fighting, metal clanging against metal. Were they being raided? When all their fighters would be drunk? As she pushed off the blanket the door to her hut flew open and there stood her mother.

"Helga, we need to move, now!" she said, then disappeared from sight. Grabbing a cloak she threw it over her shoulders and ran out the door and into a nightmare.

Huts were on fire, horses with soldiers were riding through the village, cutting down men and women. She took off around the side of her hut and made a run for the field. Was her sister okay? Her father? Where had her mother gone? Suddenly she was falling towards the ground with a thud. She had tripped over something. Looking back to see what it was she covered her mouth to prevent her scream from being heard. Her mothers wide eyed face looked back at her, separated from her body. She looked around hurriedly. She didn't have time for this! The village was burning, people were being slaughtered. Pushing herself back to her feet she took off at a run, and picked up the pass when she heard hooves getting closer and closer. Was a horseback rider going to kill her? Trample her? She veered sharply to the left and into something solid, which would have caused her to fall back onto her backside if it's arms hadn't grabbed her to keep her from falling.

"It's a girl," a man's voice said. "Just a girl." She was spun around and faced the person on the horse who had been riding towards her.

"Put her with the others," the voice on the horse said. "She came from the Chief's tent. She may be valuable."

She was confused. What was he saying? Was the man holding onto her going to kill her? She was spun around and flung over a shoulder and carried away. She tried to escape by wriggling around. A hand hit her bum.

"Stop it or I'll drop you," he said. "You don't want to be lying on the ground with horses running around."

She stopped wriggling, but turned to pounding her fists on his back, little good it did. He was wearing armour. Metal armour. But if that was the case . . .

Her blood froze in her veins. There had been rumours coming up from travellers telling of a massive army from a kingdom that was taking over the world. They murdered, raped, destroyed, enslaved. But they should have been safe all the way up here. Hardly anyone came this far North, except the hardiest of traders from the South.

She heard a creaking behind her, and many sobs, then was slid down the front of the man who was carrying her. She looked up into bright green eyes, shaggy wild blonde hair, and a weird shaped head. Then she was pushed roughly into a. enclosed wagon and the cage door was shut.

She looked around. There were six other girls in there with her.

"Where are your mothers?" she demanded. They looked at her frightened.

"Dead," one of them told her, crying. "She's dead, so is my father, and yours, too."

Helga looked around at the girls. None were over eighteen. She saw a couple of small children hidden under some blankets in the middle of the girls. Then she heard a baby cry. 'So the children and babies are okay,' she thought with relief.

"They're going to sell us," one of them said hysterically. "We're going to be sold into slavery! Or prostitution! I don't want to be a prostitute!"

It caused a couple more to cry.

"They killed my husband," one of them told Helga. "We've been married only two weeks!"

"My sister?" she enquired. "Is she dead too?"

The one who had mentioned her husband's death nodded.  
Helga sat back against the wall of their cage.

She was alone.

….  
….

"The blonde one is a Chief's daughter," his friend told him, pointing at the blonde who was glaring out at him.

Arnold was taking his turn on guard duty, with his best friend, Gerald, a young black man from the Southern parts of the Empire. His country had been absorbed years ago.

"She was the one who ran right into me," he told him. "Wriggled around, and banged on my back. And now she has the gall to glare at me, to boot!"

Gerald laughed.

"And to think, after this you go home to be married!" he teased. Arnold rolled his eyes. Ah, yes, Delilah. Obedient, home-bound, pretty, the perfect woman according to the Empire's definition. Only good for breeding. He made a face. "Not looking forward to it, I take it?"

"Not really," Arnold admitted. "I don't know her well at all."

"What did you say her name was?" Gerald asked.

"Delilah," Arnold answered. He looked over to the cart of girls. They were set for sale. He eyed the defiant blonde again. She had trouble written all over her.

"Thinking of making a purchase?" Gerald asked.

Arnold shook his head. "There will be enough woman at my home, no need to add more."

…  
…

"Look at them, those pigs," she spat.

"Don't anger them Helga, please," begged one of the girls. "We don't want to be beaten!"

"Or raped," another said.

"Or both," a more authorative voice added. "Keep quiet, heads down, keep the children still. Don't draw attention to us in any way, and maybe they'll forget we're here."

"Not likely," Helga muttered. She crawled closer to the side the blonde man who had put her in here in the first place was. She watched as the black man beside him laughed. Helga had never seen a man with skin so dark. She felt embarrassed to stare, but it was so strange. She wondered if there were more soldiers with his skin colour . . .

She saw the blonde man look her way, frown a little then look away. As another man joined them, he got closer to the cart. Helga gathered as much saliva in her mouth as possible. She pulled herself up until she was level with him. When he looked at her again she smiled. He started to smile but never did as she spat what she had in her mouth right in his face. He looked appalled, while the two men beside him laughed. He glared at her, and pointing a finger at her spoke to her angrily.

She had no idea what he said, but she knew it was a threat of some sort. She made a rude hand gesture, and almost laughed at the look on his face. Guess he wasn't like all the others. She turned her back on him, listening with a smirk as he ranted and raved to his friends who just laughed.

"You'll pay for that," one of the girls said. Helga stared hard at her. Her name was Ronda. Helga glared at her.

"What do you know?" she asked.

"More than you," she said, putting her nose in the air. "I travelled, unlike you. I know a bit of his language. About time someone put you in your place. You think your so great because you were the chief's daughter. Guess what? Now your just another girl destined for slavery, just like the rest of us. Your nobody."

All the girls went quiet, and looked to see how Helga would react. She was known to have a quick temper.

"Know all's know nothing," Helga told her.

"I'll always know more than you," she said back haughtily. "I hope it's a public flogging."

Helga raise a brow. "Flogging?"

"I've heard they flay people," one girl, Sheena, said in her squeaky voice.

"I'm more worried about my virtue," Gloria said.

"What virtue?" Helga sneered. Gloria glared at her.

"Helga's right," Ronda spoke up. "Everyone knows you-"

She stopped talking as one of the men started yelling at them. Some of them cowered. Helga caught sight of the blonde man looking there way. She glared at him, then looked away.

…  
…

"She's in for a world of hurt, that one," Gerald noted, also watching the blonde.

"Not our problem," Arnold said, looking ahead and trying his best to ignore her. But unwillingly he glanced over again.

She hadn't cowered when Sergeant Qwartz yelled at them all to shut up. She was defiant, and she would learn a hard lesson from her Master if she kept that up. Or die while he tried. If there was one thing cultured men did not like, it was defiant slaves and servants. And her glaring was getting on his nerves. She had even spat at him! Spat! It was disgusting to be spat at.

Yet, at the same time, he kind of admired her spirit. Suddenly he noticed the column halt. He and Gerald pulled up their horses and waited to see what was going on. Sergeant Qwartz was riding back up the column.

"Pick a prisoner," he told them. "Carting them like this is slowing us down. Strip your girl or child, check for any concealed weapons, then put her on the horse with you!"

He rode further down to the men further back.

Arnold watched some of the other soldiers sneer and leer. He knew what they would be thinking. He looked over at the girls who obviously had no idea what was happening. Except maybe the one with black hair. She looked a little worriedly at the men.

"Arnold? Man, what are you doing?" he heard Gerald's voice call out. It wasn't until he grabbed the blonde girls arm and dragged her out did he even realize what he was doing.

She was hitting at him, dragging her feet, and yelling.

"You've picked a feisty one there, my friend," one of the older men joked.

"Best keep an eye open boy with that one in your tent!" joked another.

"Likely as bite ya!"

"You have too many problems breaking her in, hand her to me. I like breaking 'em in!"  
Arnold ignored the laughs and jokes and barbs, but noticed that she had stopped fighting. She was looking at the men curious. He shook his head, and climbed on his horse. He pulled her up in front of him.

"You don't want to know what they are laughing about or saying,  
he murmured in her ear. He looked over at Gerald who was shaking his head.

"Brave or stupid," he said. "I just don't know what you are anymore."


	2. Chapter 2

The ride was a quiet one. The girls had their hands tied together with rawhide. A couple had been gagged. '_Talking too much_,' Helga thought to herself. She looked for Ronda. She looked terrified as the man she was riding with whispered in her ear. Helga didn't blame him. He looked mad. She saw Gloria with some tall, lanky man with a big nose. Helga made a face. Then she saw Sheena, quietly chatting with a smallish redheaded man. He spoke their language? He was smiling at what she was saying and nodding. Maybe he didn't but was being polite? She sighed and adjusted herself. This was so uncomfortable. Helga had ridden before, but not for such long stretches of time and with someone else. She was getting tired too, having not slept that much. She was partly relieved when she saw that the men were started putting up tents. Her relief was short lived however when she was taken off the horse and tied to a tree like one. She growled at the blonde man who just smiled at her sardonically and went to get his tent up.

She sat down on the ground, watching him work. He had the tent up in no time, then came back and untied her, leading her into it. Going to the centre he tied her to some weird horseshoe shaped stake, then started to unlace her dress. She turned red. They hadn't been allowed to stop and relieve themselves. She was pretty sure she had peed herself. Thankfully she hadn't poo'd, but her aching stomach told her she needed too. She pulled away from him when her dress fell to the floor. He then proceeded to continue undressing her until she stood in only her loincloth and a breast band. She shivered; it was still cold, for all it was spring. Especially inside a tent. She felt embarrassed, being so naked in front of a man.

She never had been before. She was meant to marry the son of a Chief in the next village, but she doubted that would happen now. She felt him trail his surprisingly warm fingers over her skin. She tensed up, remembering the words spoken by one of the girls she hadn't seen in the dark.

He said something to her that she couldn't understand, then she felt his lips on her shoulder. Oh Gods, he was! She blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. She refused to cry in front of him. She heard him sigh and move away, mumbling to himself. He came back, handing her clothing to her and said something, then turned around. A moment later he untied her, keeping his eyes on the ground. She hurriedly dressed, before he might change his mind.

"I'm dressed," she said. He looked up at her, and nodded, obviously guessing at what she had said. He motioned for her to undo his armor. She gave him a look to say _"What am I, you slave?"  
_  
He said something to her in a tired voice. She twisted her mouth and took pity on him. Moving forward she undid the buckles on his metal breastplate. Underneath he was wearing his leather. He turned for her as she continued to remove it. She looked up at him, then away, remembering his lips on her shoulder, his fingertips on her skin. She bit her lip.

Often the men in the clan had made jokes about these men, how they preferred sleeping with each other rather than the woman.

"If they didn't need women to breed, they wouldn't bother at all!" her father had said once. She had smiled along with the other woman. The men had all had a good laugh and continued to make jokes at these men's expense. Though nothing much was ever said about the Empire, as it was known. Except that it was brutal and taking over the world. Or so they said. Helga blinked back tears. Her village, her whole world, it was gone. She looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. She thought of her sister, her mother and her father. Right now he would be out with the other men, drinking and joking. Olga and Mother would be getting food prepared for the next days meal, while Helga would no doubt be mending any clothing needing it. She was often ignored, but she had no problem with that. It meant she had more freedom than the other girls. Then they would set out their offerings to the Gods, then go to bed.

Tears started to slip from her eyes, and she let out a sob. She thought she was silent, but she felt a thumb wipe the tear off her face, she turned, surprised, to see the man, Arnold she remembered, staring at her with sad green eyes.

"Sorry."

She understood that word. It was nearly international. She just nodded, then looked back up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, praying for sleep.

…..  
…..

"Did you break her in, boy?" one of the men asked, laughing. Arnold ignored them. No, he hadn't. But he had considered it. Her skin was surprisingly soft and smooth, though he noted the palms of her hands were rough and calloused.

He put her up on the horse, then climbed on after her. He had had her dress him, and put his armor on. One more day and they would be at the fort. One more day.

'_And then she will be shipped off to the slave markets_,' his mind told him. '_What will become of her do you think?_' He shook his head and frowned. He still didn't even know her name, yet she knew his, surely. Enough people had used it.

He saw her staring at the raven haired girl, who was staring into space. He didn't need to wonder why. Thaddeus was known to be slightly mad. He came from a tribe who claimed war demons would take over them. Arnold would believe it, having seen him in battle. He didn't want to think of how he had treated the girl with him. Speaking of . . .

"Arnold," he said, pointing at himself. The blonde haired, blue eyed girl looked at him and nodded. "You?"

She pointed at herself, and he nodded.

"Helga," she said in a thick accent.

"Helga?" he repeated. She nodded. He smiled. "Nice to meet you."

She said nothing, just turned away to face forward. He sighed. She looked to be pretty, and he was eager to see how she cleaned up, hair nice, clean clothes. He smiled into her hair, which had the smell of straw. He chuckled. Why was he feeling so giddy? Had being on the campaign as long as he had finally cracked his brain? Would he go as mad as Thaddeus? Reaching around her, his arms slid along the side of her breasts. He wanted to touch them, squeeze them, take them in his mouth . . .

But before that he wanted her bathed. Completely clean body. Clean hair, clean clothes. Maybe some nice fragrance. He looked at her. What would suit her? Carnation? Yes, possibly. She looked back at him, frowning. He smiled at her, already deciding how she would have her hair, what colour clothing she would wear, her make up, her jewellery . . .

'_Don't get carried away with your dreams, you fool_!' his brain was screaming at him. '_She's destined for the slave market, and your destined to go home, marry an already sweet, clean and obedient young woman, and have children!_'

"Fluff brained woman, fluff brained kids, except of course for the boys, who will be trained for battle and war," he murmured. Helga looked at him again, raising a brow. "I'm not mad, just talking to myself."

She shifted as if uncomfortable, and wanting to move away from him, but not being able to. Instead he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him. He ran his hand up her torso, to her breast, and leaned forward and nipped her ear. He felt her tense. He smiled.

Maybe he should take her. It's not like he would get in trouble. She was probably going to be brought and used for just that purpose . . .

His grip tightened on his reign. As if sensing his change she turned and looked at him with a bit of alarm. He smiled at her again. She gave him a weak one back then turned away again.

Victory!

He had gained a smiled from her.

..  
..

'_He's a mad man! I knew it!_' she was screaming at herself. '_I'm stuck on a horse, with an armed man, who is mad!_'  
She tried to keep her eyes forward, but was becoming distracted by something hard stabbing into her lower back. '_His belt must be loose or something_,' she thought, putting her hand behind her to move whatever it was. He chuckled, she went red and pulled her hand back. That wasn't a belt buckle or anything else. That was him! She looked at her hand, shocked. What. Had. She. Just. _Touched!?  
_  
He asked her a question and she turned and stared at him. He was obviously amused by what he saw and laughed again. She tried to glare at him, then looked away, feeling thoroughly embarrassed and violated. Her hand had touched his . . . Ugh, she couldn't even think about it.

"I thought they only got hard for other men, Father," she said looking up at the sky. "This one doesn't."

She was no stranger to what a man and woman did together. Their hut was the biggest, but only woven blankets separated them. She had heard her parents, had seen her sister once, and of course Gloria. A few of the girls had followed her once and watched her with one of the older boys. Though disgusted, there was still a curiosity about it all. Gloria appeared to enjoy it. She heard her parents enjoy it. And her sister, too.

Thinking of it made her tingly, so she pushed it from her mind. Though with him right behind her, she was very aware of what was going on in his mind. She bit her lip. Would he have his way with her tonight? And then what?

When they stopped for midday meal she slid off the horse and into his waiting arms. She smiled and him and nodded, then heard a commotion. She turned to see Ronda make a break for it, into the woods.

"Ronda!" Helga called out. The next thing she saw was an arrow hit the girl in the leg. She fell to the ground with a scream.

Helga went to run towards her, but Arnold held her back, and turned her away.

"No," he was saying, over and over. "No, no. You'll die."

Helga tried to look to see what was happening.

"Kill me, kill me _please_!" she heard Ronda yelling. "Please, _kill me_! don't place me with him again! Please! I would rather _die_!"

Helga bit her lip and looked to see Sheena white as a ghost and swaying. She never did do well with blood. She was often teased by the other woman for fainting while preparing meals which involved meat and blood. She saw Arnold's friend, Gerald, shaking his head and talking to Arnold, who nodded in agreement with whatever was said.

She looked at the ground.

What had happened to her to make her rather die than live.

She looked up at Arnold, who was watching the scene unfold with a tense jaw, and grim stare.

And would it happen to her?


	3. Chapter 3

(_The Empire, as it will be known, is based on Ancient Rome, yes. It wont be completely accurate, but I will try, because it is also an AU. The languages I will be referencing are German and Latin, where I can. Because OMG I am not going to try and find translations for ancient languages. Slavery will be mentioned in this story, just as a trigger-warning. Sorry._)

* * *

"I'm looking forward to a real bath," Gerald said, finally leading his horse through the stone walls into the small "city". He glanced at Arnold. The girl riding with him was looking around with amazement, but he could see she was also trying to hide her awe. It had been a quiet ride since the incident with the girl who had tried to escape. Gerald shuddered. She would be punished, no doubt by Thaddeus, for her behaviour.

"Me too," Arnold said. "No more cold streams!"

He looked at the girl riding in front of him and smiled. Man was she in for a surprise. Underfloor heating, hot water, clean clothes made from linen, rather than the wool she wore. He smiled. He had made his decision. If he couldn't keep her, he would buy her. And take her home with him. He'd find a place for her in his house.

He got off the horse, and led it to the house he would be staying in. maybe he could hide her? That way he wouldn't have to buy her, or risk losing her to another buyer? Finally coming to his quarters he tied the horse up outside and helped her down, then led her inside, closing the door behind him.

Helga stood there frozen for a moment, looking at her surroundings. There was a large hole in one corner, with hot water, and some weird chair made from stone that had a hole in the centre. There was a table and chairs, and she guessed behind the curtain was the sleeping room.

He took her hand and led her over to the curtain and opened it, showing her the bed. She reached out and touched it, and found that it was soft. She ran her hands over the blankets. What was this material? She had never felt it before.

"Silk," he said. "From the Eastern Lands."

He motioned for her to sit on it, and she did.

"I'm going to go find you some clothes," he told her, grabbing some rope to tie her hands to a metal circle in the wall. He put a finger to his lip and shhhh'd her, then smiled reassuringly and left. He left the house with a smile on his face, sure she would go nowhere.

"The slavers are here," Gerald said, coming up behind him quickly. "Are you going to turn her over?"

"No, I think I'll take her with me," he said. Gerald shook his head.

"Your cracked in the head," he told him. "I'm going to head over that way in any case. See what's on offer."

They separated and Arnold went to where he knew some of the woman who were here went for clothes. Meeting the merchant there he haggled a good price on some loincloths, a couple of dresses, and some shoes. Then he saw some trinkets he thought would look nice in her hair, oh, and that brooch. He paid for his items, and made his way back to the house, stopping to pick up some food on the way. He wondered if she could cook, and what she could cook, if she could.

Entering the house he was surprised to see her sitting at the table. He dropped his purchases in shock. Hadn't he tied her to the wall?

"What are you doing loose?" he asked, looking in the direction he had left her.

She said something, but he couldn't quite understand what. He was going to need to change that. He had been in this country a year, but had not bothered to learn the language. It wasn't up to them to learn the language. It was up to the feral barbarians to learn the Empire's. He would need her taught in the language of the Empire. He also doubted she could read or write or even count. They didn't buy what they needed, so much as they traded. He shook his head.

He needed a bath, and so did she. He took her to where the bath was and motioned for her to strip him off. She looked at the water, which had steam coming from it. She undressed him, glancing at the water that looked nice. Removing first his leather armour, then his tunic, boots and hose, he was left standing in a loincloth only. She stepped back and he frowned.

"Continue," he commanded. She looked up at him nervously, and he noticed her wringing her hands. Taking them he tugged her forward and placed them on the loincloth. "Finish."

He took notice of her gulp, she took a deep breath, and undid it, letting it fall to the floor. Without looking at him she turned quickly away, staring hard at a strange block of soap. Then he moved to undoing her dress letting it fall to the floor. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and he kissed her shoulder. Without having bathed he could smell only her. He continued removing her clothes until she was naked as well. Then grabbing the soap, and stepping down into the bath he led her in as well. He handed her the soap and waited expectantly for her to wash him down. She stared at it a moment, then at him, smiled, and started to soap herself. His jaw dropped.

"No, no, you clean me," he said, reaching to take the soap away from her. She laughed and pulled it away from him, out of reach. He laughed and reached again, though she only pulled it further away, and continued to soap herself. So she had a sense of humour? That was fantastic, because he did too, though it was hardly used. Most often it was lost on the men he worked with. He wrapped his naked arm around her wet naked, torso, and pulled her to him, reaching around and taking the soap from her hand.

Having her close and trapped of sorts, he slid his hand up to cup her breast and placed his lips to her throat. She pulled away and looked back at him, with a small thrown and he took the opportunity to catch her mouth with his. She pulled away, so he moved himself to being in front of her and kissed her again. He felt her slip her hands up to his chest and try to push him away, but he was having none of it. He just tightened his grip on her, moving his hand up her back, and into her hair, then held her head still.

When she did manage to wriggle away she fell down and slipped under the water, but came right back up spluttering and flailing about, spitting and no doubt swearing. The sight was hilarious to Arnold, who stood there and laughed.

She yelled at him, then went to get out, but he pulled her back into the water and sat down, pulling her onto his lap and kissing her again. Desire swept through his system. Only two days with this girl, but he wanted her. Badly. Having been away from woman as long as he had, and not wanting to partake in the "fun" of his counterparts, he had fore-gone a woman's touch for a while now. Delilah and he had grown up together, their parents were close, and it was seen as a good match. And he had agreed. But being away from her for so long, those youthful feelings of love were fading, he couldn't remember her smell, her voice, her mannerisms.

But he could smell Helga's scent, was learning her mannerisms, hearing her voice, even if he couldn't understand her, touch her, kiss her . . .

He pressed her back against the bath, and spread her legs with his knee, then put himself between them. She turned her face away, and tried to push herself away from him, shaking her head and saying, no, no, over and over, he growled and pulled back.

"Why?" he demanded. She just sat there staring at him, wide eyed. "Virgin?"

"Virggeen?"

Arnold thought, racking his brain. Obviously they didn't use the word virgin.

"Jungfrau?" he asked, hoping he had it right. He saw recognition light up in her eyes, then a blush appear, and a nod so small he would have missed it had he not been so close.

"Ich bin eine Jungfrau," she whispered.

"What? Are you saying you're a virgin?" he demanded, frustrated by this point. She glared at him and used her hands to cover her woman parts and shook her head. "You are a virgin."

He sat back. He was still horny as hell, and learning that in front of him was a virgin did not help matters. It made him want her more, to be the first man to . . .

He didn't want to hurt her though. He thought silently to himself. This wasn't right. All he had heard told him that all these northerners did was have sex. And yet this girl in front of him was saying she never had? Then it dawned on him. If she were ever to go up for sale he would undoubtedly be outbid. She was unusual, with her long blonde hair, clear blue eyes, tall and so, so pale. She would go for a high price as it was, but add the word virgin to her name . . .

He moved towards her and turned her around, and using the soap washed her hair roughly, then the rest of her. Then he finished washing himself, and got out, holding a hand out to her. Helping her out of the bath he took a towel and started to dry her off. Then he handed her the towel, expecting her to return the favour. She dried him off, but he noticed her trying to avoid looking at certain parts. Arnold smiled to himself.

A virgin huh?

…  
…

Helga sat still as he combed her hair. There was a pretty necklace in front of her. And a brooch. He would show her a piece, and how to use it, like she was stupid or something, then clip it to her dress - which she had to admit, was very nice - or clip in her hair, as he was now. He had swept her hair up messily, then clipped it as best he could. She made a face, and took it out, shaking her head and running her fingers through it. '_Men,_' she took her waist length hair and plated it quickly, then grabbing some ribbon he had brought in she tied it in her hair. Then she picked up the necklace and put it on herself. Then she gave him a pointed stare.

He held his hands up in surrender, with a smile. She was confused by this man. And she was confused by the feelings he was eliciting from her. She was a free soul, and he was controlling. He chose everything for her, and she wasn't used to that. To a degree then men did control parts of your life. But this one controlled everything. What she wore, how she wore it.

She didn't like it.

Having been left mostly to her own devices she wasn't used to having someone make decisions for her. And this one seemed to be trying to make them all for her. She sat watching as he moved around the house. He was slightly older than her, maybe a year or two? She had seen sixteen winters. Her next winter would be her seventeenth.

But what worried her more was his advances.

"How old are you?" she asked, completely forgetting that he wouldn't understand a word she said. She made a face.

"Nullo intellego," he said, shaking his head. She took that to mean he didn't understand her. She sighed, then moved to where he had some paper and a piece of charcoal. She made sixteen symbols for winter and pointed to herself. Seemingly understanding her, he took the quill from her and made nineteen signs for winter. He had three years on her. She looked up at him. He did have such an odd shaped head!  
He took her hand and led her to where the bed was. Sitting on it and pulling her down with him, he started talking to her. She could tell he was trying to explain something to her, but he didn't know how.  
Finally he gave up, sighed, and held up a hand, then left. She started to look around. Should she clean? Did she want her to start cooking? She didn't know what to do! Finally she just lay down and stared at the ceiling. If there weren't so many warriors here she could make an escape. Not that she was being treated badly . . . yet. But she could tell that Arnold would eventually lose his self-control. Hadn't he almost done so in the bath earlier? How long could he control himself? How would she fight him off? He was so much bigger than she was, and stronger too.

She must have fallen asleep because she woke when she felt her shoulder being shaken.  
"Hello, Helga, is it?" a woman asked. Helga sprang up.

"You can speak my language?" she asked, excitedly.

"A little bit, only what I have learned," she told her. "But you will need to speak slowly."

"I don't want to be sold!" she cried out. "I do not want to become someone's slave or a prostitute!"

The lady turned to repeat in Arnold's language what she said, or so Helga hoped. Arnold looked at her and smiled. He spoke to the woman, who then turned and spoke to Helga when he had finished.

"I'm going to try my best to tell you what he said," she told her. "He want's to take you home to live in his house as a slave. He will not sell you. But he cannot let you be free. In the Empire woman are the property of their fathers or husbands or brothers."

"I have no brother, no husband, and my father is dead," Helga told her. "Does that mean I have to be his property? Do we have to have sex? Because he tried to have sex with me in the bath!"

The woman turned red and pulled away from her, looking up at Arnold uncertainly.

"A slave serves their master, does what he wishes them to do," she said.

"And sex?" she asked, making a face.

The woman looked up at Arnold, obviously not knowing what to say, but knowing that Arnold wanted to know.

"If that's what he wishes of you, yes," she said.

"But I can say no?" she asked.

The woman shook her head.

"You don't have that choice."


	4. Chapter 4

(An attempt at Japanese ahead lol)

* * *

Arnold noticed Helga had gone quiet after her conversation with the woman. He watched her as that night she prepared some meat and vegetable in the cauldron over the hearth. She threw it all in together, then went about finding things to clean up, then she sat down and imitated sewing to him. He dug through his bags and found a sewing kit. She took a torn tunic of his and started to sew it up. He dug through his bags again, finding more damaged clothing to hand to her. She seemed quite happy doing that, and he sat and watched her for a while.

He knew she knew what to expect. He had made it clear he found her desirable. Watching her, he saw the tension slowly leave her body as she seemingly got lost in her work. When she was done, she started doing a little picture on one of his tops. Curious he moved closer to have a look. He couldn't quite make out exactly what it was, but it looked interesting non the less. She looked up at him, then back down at her work, a slight blush tainting her cheeks. He stopped her by removing it from her hands. It was now or never. He hoped he didn't muck this up. He wasn't sure why he cared so much, but he did. He had found sex pleasurable, and he wanted her to as well. Leading her over to the bed, he could see her getting nervous. Maybe if they had spoken the same language, this wouldn't have been so scary for her? He leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. She stayed still while he again kissed her softly, then moved to her cheek and down to her neck.

"Ich werde sanft sein," he whispered. He felt her jump a little in surprise. He smiled against her neck, bringing his hands up to slide the shoulders of the dress down. He had asked how to say it in her native tongue, then practiced it. He hoped he had said it right . . .

He took his time with her, taking it slow, though it was so hard for him to do! He hadn't been with a woman for so long, and he didn't want to take it so slow. But he didn't want to hurt her. He had promised he would take it slow, and be gentle. And he was.

But the more of her he had, the more he wanted . . .

.

Arnold wrote to his family that morning, mentioning Helga and how he planned to bring her back with him. During the writing there was a knock on his door. Getting up he opened it to find a grim faced Gerald there.

"Bring Helga," he said. "They're all to be brought to see this."

Arnold frowned, but led a very quiet Helga out the door. It was then that he noticed a small, quiet raven haired girl with his best friend. She was Eastern, he could see that. From one of the closed civilisations.  
"Who's this?" Arnold asked. Gerald smiled.

"I don't know, but I'm calling her Phoebe," he said. "That girl who tried to escape Thaddeus tried again during the night."

Helga looked at Arnold. He could see the questions in her eyes, but didn't know what to tell her. There was a large crowd gathered. Arnold could smell burning metal, and shuddered. Looking up here saw she had been tied to a pole. To the side was a smith heating a brander in fire. So Thaddeus was going to brand her? Mark her as a FUG? He shook his head. He was all for keeping slaves in line, but this was cruel. Why didn't he just have a placed around her neck telling anyone who found her to return her to him?

There were several people who spoke different languages standing nearby. They obviously would be translating for any other slaves. Arnold looked around. Even small children and babies were there. One of the babies he was sure came with Helga's group was being cradled by an older woman. From what he had heard, many childless couples were buying the babies and very small children to raise as their own. That was obviously the fate of this baby. He smiled.

"Let this be a warning to you all!" a herald called out over the crowd. "Slaves are Property of the Masters, bound to your Masters. Disobedience will not be tolerated! Let this be a lesson to you all, the perils of disobedience!"

A lot of the "prisoners of war" watched first with curiosity, then, realising what was about to happen, horror. Ronda was screaming and terrified. Arnold wrapped an arm around Helga's shoulders. He could feel her trembling. He felt her face bury into his side as the first red hot iron letter was pressed to the girls forehead. He could smell her flesh burning. He had seen this before, but obviously none of these Northern girls and boys had. Some were forced to watch by their new masters as the next letter was burned into the flesh of her forehead. By the time the third letter was to be burned into her skin, she had gone quiet, and thankfully passed out from pain and shock.

Arnold looked to her leg that had been hit by the arrow Thaddeus had shot at her. It was bandaged.

"Heed this warning. You will not escape!"

.

Arnold laid next to Helga, wrapping her in her arms as she cried. When they had entered the house she had turned on him and started yelling at him, and hit him. He had eventually knocked her to the ground and restrained her by force.

He understood her fear. When Glady's, and interpretation, had come by later he had left her to talk to Helga. She had had a very busy afternoon it appeared, explaining to the girls what had happened.

"She is angry and upset," Glady's told Arnold. "She is scared you will do that to her."

Arnold looked over at her. She was sitting upright, but had curled herself into a ball nonetheless. Her face was tearstained.

"I would never do that to her," he told Glady's. "Can you tell her that? Please?"

Glady's nodded and went over to talk to her. He watched as they spoke a little more, then Glady's nodded and moved to leave.

"She's a very scared girl, they all are, after what they saw today," Glady's told him. "And I don't blame them. Not one bit!"

Arnold watched as she left the house in a hurry. Arnold walked over to Helga and sat beside her, wrapping her in a hug. She started babbling her own tongue, and though Arnold couldn't understand her, he didn't get frustrated this time. He kissed her head, and tried to calm her down. He tried to make love to her, though he knew she wasn't into it as he was. He was trying to distract her from her thoughts. It didn't work, and afterwards she just cried in his arms.

Eventually she fell asleep in his arms, and once he was sure she was in a deep sleep, he left the bed to sit at the table and have a bowl of her stew she had started the previous night. It was good. Afterwards, still feeling restless, he checked on her once again, then left for a walk.

"I hear you've broken the fiery blonde," a voice said behind him. He turned to see Wolf. That was all anyone knew him as. Wolf. "How much for a night?"

"Excuse me?" Arnold asked, shocked.

"Come on, you know what I mean," he said, punching him in the shoulder. "How much do you charge her out at?"

"I don't," he said. "She's not available."

"Eh? That seems a bit unfair, doesn't it men?" he said, looking to the two men behind him. They sneered. "We all had a part in her capture. We should all have a part of her!"

"Not her!" Arnold yelled at them, then stormed off in a bad mood. He walked around and around, thinking, thinking. Twice more he was asked about Helga. Did he plan to sell her? How much? Oh, he was keeping her? Was he planning to rent her out?

He shook his head. Why was everyone so set on Helga. When he caught up to Eugene he found that he had often been asked the same about the girl who he had.

"It's like everyone wants a piece of them or something," he said sadly. "But I can't do that to her. She's so sweet and timid. I couldn't let those brutes have her . . ."

"They wouldn't do this if they were our wives," Gerald said, coming up behind them. The three men were quiet.

"You know, technically we could marry them," Eugene said. "I mean, half the tradition is done. We "abducted" them."

Arnold and Gerald looked at each other.

"I purchased Phoebe," Gerald said. "I can say that I purchased her for just that reason."

"So are we all getting married?" Arnold asked.

"It will keep the girls safe," Eugene pointed out.

"Then what are we doing sitting around here for?" Gerald asked. "Let's marry them!"

.

Arnold had Glady's come to his house. Eugene came with Sheena, and Gerald with his Phoebe. Arnold explained what they wanted, for her to pass on to the girls.

"These two I can," she said, indicating Sheena and Helga. "This one, no. You will need to ask Atsuko. I can get her if you wish." Gerald nodded and Glady's left. It took her twenty minutes, but she came back eventually. Atsuko bowed to them, then walked over to Phoebe.

"Onamae oshiete itadake masu ka?" she asked.

"Watashi no namae wa Akiko desu," Phoebe told her quietly. After that it was a flurry of talking and translating. Phoebe nodded at the end, smiling.

"She agree's to be your wife," Atsuko told Gerald.

"Can you come with us to let authorities know that?" he asked. "I don't want any problems. I want official documents." Atsuko nodded, and left with Phoebe and Gerald.

"Wish me luck," his parting words were.

Arnold did so, then looked at Helga who was being spoken to by Glady's. Arnold saw her nod, and look his way. Sheena also nodded.

"Both girls agree to marriage," she said, smiling. "It's a good thing you two men are doing. Not many a this lucky."

.

It wasn't much. There was no ceremony, no drinking, no music, as there often was with marriages in Helga's culture. With the Empire marriages, you just needed to say you wanted to be married and that was that. She was disappointed, and expressed as much to Glady's who passed her sorrows onto Arnold.

"We'll have a wine," he said, smiling at her.

How was he going to break this news to his parents? How was Delilah likely to react? When he had left, a mere boy, they had made vows of love, that he would return and they would marry. But he had seen so much, experienced so much. He could barely remember her now. He had changed, and no doubt she had too. In any case he needed to let his parents know so they could pass on the news.

.

Helga sipped from her cup of wine. It was a quiet celebration. She was sitting with Gerald's wife, watching the two drunken men and their comedic antics, laughing and shaking her head. She and Phoebe would smile at each other occasionally. Helga felt sad that the could not communicate.

Eventually she tapped Phoebe's shoulder and smiled, placing her hand on her own chest. An international sign for me.

"Helga," she stated, smiling.

"Akiko," she said so quietly, clasping her hands over her chest in front of her. Helga and her sat together in comfortable silence. So her name wasn't Phoebe, it was Akiko.

Why had Gerald changed it?


	5. Chapter 5

(_On Helga's lack of fiercness. She has seen a girl she grew up with SHOT with an arrow then later had three letters BURNED onto her forehead. She has known Arnold THREE days. She doesn't know how far he would go if she were disobedient. She is not stupid, or wimpy. She is being cautious as I am sure many would be after witnessing something like that. Phoebe and Akiko both mean "bright" which is why I used it. The reason he changed her name from Akiko to Phoebe will be answered eventually. I'm basing the illness on smallpox. "Ich werde sanft sein" - I'll be gentle. *"Krankheit" - Illness *"hōsōshin" - smallpox demon - Japanese, look it up, it's "real"_)

* * *

When Gerald and Phoebe left, Helga was alone with Arnold. She watched as he stumbled around a bit. Now that Phoebe was gone, she had time to think. Arnold sat down on the bed, but didn't invite her over. He looked to be ready to pass out.

She thought back on what she had witnessed today, and wondered what had happened to the other girls. She knew Sheena was okay . . . or at least seemed okay. Seeing what had happened to Ronda made her realise she had no idea what was going on with them. Arnold seemed decent enough, but she had seen many marriages between men and woman change after marriage. She remembered when she was very young her father casting a man from their village after he beat his wife to death in a drunken fit. But it hadn't been the first incident, even when the man had been sober, just the last in a string of them.

Now that Helga was his wife, would he change? And who was Delilah? He had spoken of her often during his conversation with Gerald. He seemed to be slightly stressed about her, whoever she was.  
She sighed. She was starting to feel like a caged animal. The only time she had left this house was to get married. She looked over towards Arnold as he called her name. He was motioning for her to join him. She didn't really want to. She wanted to be alone, to process everything she had seen. She had no idea what would happen now. Was she still bound to be completely obedient to him? Could he still have her publically punished? If she were to run away . . .

'_Where would you run to?_' a voice in her head asked her. She smiled. She had a cousin . . . '_And if you were found again? You don't even know if he is still alive, these people have been sweeping over these lands. And do you know the way?_'

Just as she was making her way over to him, there was a banging on the door. She looked back, then watched as Arnold, frowning, got up and opened the door to a desperate looking man holding papers. He handed a couple to Arnold, then left without a word. He looked worried though. She watched as Arnold sighed and tossed them on the table, smiling at her and taking her to bed. She looked back at those letters. Shouldn't he read them? They might be important. No good news came after dark . . .

…

Helga was woken by activity and talking. She looked over to see Arnold pacing and talking to himself, looking down at the letters. He seemed concerned, upset, and angry. She sat up. What was wrong?  
"What's wrong?" she asked, not even thinking. He stopped pacing and looked at her, a dark haunted look in his eyes. It scared her a bit.

He told her, but she could only understand that he was talking about his mother and father, nothing much else. Except . . . Illness? And he mentioned that Delilah again. When he realised she wasn't getting anything he was saying, he started yelling, and picked up a plate and smashed it on the floor, making Helga jump and pull the blanket up higher. He didn't seem to notice or care, just continued to be angry. Then he stormed out of the door and slammed it behind him, leaving her there in stunned silence, not knowing what was happening or going on.

Getting up timidly she looked at the mess. Should she pick it up? It would be a good idea. She didn't want to risk getting any pieces in her foot. She set about cleaning up when knocking on the door got her attention. When she opened it she saw Gerald and Phoebe standing there.  
"Arnold?" he asked. She shrugged and opened the door, inviting him in, then getting the letters off the table and handing them to him. She watched him read over them with a grim face. Then he looked at her. "Krankheit."

He left Phoebe with her, and left the house to look for Arnold.

Phoebe smiled to her and started to help her clean up.

…

"Arnold!" he heard Gerald call out to him. He was standing on the wall looking out over the grass plains. "Arnold, I'm sorry."

Arnold ignored him, continuing to stare out at the empty fields. He would be delaying his trip home. Pestilence had broken out in the Empire. It had consumed the Empire Capitol. It had been spreading rapidly through the countries.

"Arnold, come on, talk to me," Gerald said.

"She died," he said quietly.

"I know, Helga showed me the letters. She's concerned," he told him. Arnold shook his head.  
"I have been having second thoughts about marrying Delilah for a while, and now . . ."

"It's not your fault," Gerald told him. "And you can't blame Helga for you feeling guilty. She was dead before you even met Helga."

"My father and mother were down with it as well," Arnold added. "They are both dead by now, no doubt."

**_Three Weeks Later_**

"It's here! It's here!" a hysterical woman was screaming, running through the streets. "The Pestilence is _here_!"

Gerald and Arnold looked at each other, then hurried back to the house. When they got there they saw Gladys talking to the girls. Helga looked terrified, but Phoebe just looked kind of calm. Atsuko was there as well.

"We have seen this before," Atsuko explained. "It is not pleasant. It can wipe out entire families."

"What is it?" Arnold asked.

"We call it _hōsōshin_," Atsuko answered. "They fear red. Color your house with red."

Arnold and Gerald looked at each other, unsure. Red? That was supposed to keep the malady at bay?

"We must go to our own homes," Atsuko told them.

"Keep to yourselves, do not invite anyone in. Leave if necessary. People lose their minds when death comes to visit," Gladys added, looking at Arnold. She patted Helga's cheek, then left, Atsuko leaving with her.

"How do we know when someone is sick?" Gerald asked. Arnold handed him paper. Gerald skimmed it.

"So we could have gotten it already and just not know? We just have to wait?

"Looks like it," Arnold said, looking around. Red, red, what did he have in the house that was red?

Nothing . . .

…

Helga sat thinking. Staying here would not be safe. Not if there was sickness in the town. She looked at Arnold. If she was to run away, would he follow her? Would he hunt her down, do to her what that man had done to Ronda? She shuddered. She would not wish that upon her worst enemy. Except maybe this illness. Gladys had told her what she knew about it. The capitol of the Empire was falling apart due to this pox. Whole legions of armies were dying from the sickness rather than from war. Battles had ground to a near complete halt due to it. The Emperor himself had it, two of his own children having already died from it.

She asked what an Emperor was, and Gladys explained it to her. She had asked, if they weren't safe, how could they be safe here then?

"We're not," Gladys admitted. "No one will be."

…

Three days after news of the first case had come in, twenty people were dead. They were taken outside the walls and burned on a pyre. No one was coming in, or going out, except the dead and those responsible, who would join the previous dead days later. Arnold and Helga had been trapped in the house for three days, and it was doing Arnold's head in. Helga, he noted, seemed quite comfortable, but he wasn't. He started to pack things.

"We need to leave," he told her, throwing a bag at her. "Pack!"

She obeyed without hesitation. Three days stuck only with each other and she had picked up the basics of his language. He had taught her, though she suspected it was more from boredom than anything. Under the cover of darkness they would sneak from the town on his horse. There were no sentries standing guard. Helga worried that if one of them were sick, and didn't know it, they may carry it with them to someplace it hadn't gotten to yet.

Just outside the gates they saw a shadow walking around in circles. Getting closer Helga saw it was Ronda. She had a huge metal necklace of some sort on. Helga could see the mess on her forehead where she had been "branded".

"He's dead, he's dead," she said, sounding happy. Helga went to move closer, but Arnold stopped her. He pointed at his arms, then towards Ronda. She looked hard through the dark.

There! One her arms, was a rash of some sort. Helga looked again at her face. They were there too.  
"Thaddeus must have died from it," Arnold told her. "She has it too."

Helga shook her head and tugged on him. Ronda was not sane obviously. Not anymore. Helga thought how sad that was. Although they were never friends, they had grown up together and played together. When Ronda was there. Ronda hadn't been lying when she said she had travelled. Often she left with her father to a neighbouring village . . .

The neighbouring village! Had the army gone that far? The spring floods would have been by now! They could go there! She knew they would be taken in because . . .

"I was supposed to marry Adalhard," she whispered.

"What?" Arnold asked.

She looked at him. She had completely forgotten about her fathers deal with Adalhard's father. She shook her head. No point trying to explain it to him. It didn't matter now. If she were to go there now, after having married an intruder, not only would Arnold be killed, it's likely she would too, for being tainted. Maybe she could throw herself on their mercy though, claim it was all forced . . .

No, she knew that would not be how it would work. No matter how close she was, she could never go back. She looked back at the fortified town.

"Go back," she said to him. He shook his head.

"We'll die," he told her.

She shook her head, and pointed out towards the trees.

"We die there too," she told him. "Maybe sick now?"

She could see that he was realising she was right. No matter where they went, they could die. Which death would be better though? Her tugging on his arm to go back made up his decision. They trudged back to the town.

"Nowhere to go," he heard her say.

And wasn't she right? Never had Arnold felt more isolated than he did now.

…

Two days later Helga woke up and vomited.

"No, no," Arnold said with dismay. "Not you too."

There were very few people left now. What had once been a thriving town housing over three hundred people was now almost deserted. No one who was still alive would leave the house, or had completely abandoned the town. Houses where people had been sick had already been raided. Twice Arnold had chased someone away from his own house. Helga had gone completely white. Arnold had noted as she cooked the previous day that she didn't look well. Now it looked like she too, was sick. Which meant he too, would come down with it.

He tried to think of how she could have gotten it though. She had never left the house as much as he had. He had kept it that way to keep her from Wolf and his cronies who didn't see much sanction in marriage. It was law that a man could have only one wife, though he was allowed mistresses.  
Arnold couldn't lose Helga. He had promised to protect her, keep her safe.

"Krankheit?" he asked. She shook her head. She took him to his calendar and pointed to a date from five weeks ago, then patted her lower stomach.

"Schwinger?" she told him.

"You'r Pregnant?" he asked. He pointed to her stomach. "Baby?"

She shrugged with a smile. He laughed and wrapped his arms around her in relief. Not because he was happy she might be pregnant.

But because he was grateful she wasn't sick!


	6. Chapter 6

(I have been tinkering with this chapter all week (between lots of other things). I wanted it to be a certain way, but just couldn't quite get it the way I wanted. So not 100% happy, but here it is.)

* * *

The only good thing to be said for the illness in such a small town was that it came and left quickly, though barely anyone was left. In the end a trench was dug by survivors and the deceased who could not be burned were dumped into it, then buried. From three hundred people there were just seventy left.

Helga wept for Gladys, who had passed just the week before. Sheena and Eugene also passed. Ronda was found in the fields. Her death was bittersweet for Helga. On one hand she was sad. On the other, she knew Ronda had been miserable since the destruction of their home.

Wolf caught the illness, but survived, though he was badly disfigured. His friends had not been so lucky. Gloria also survived, but her man did not. She was now at a lost end, not knowing what to do. She headed off in the end with some other survivors. Her last links to her past life were gone. Many of the new slaves who had arrived with the Traders were dead within a week of arriving. It's how it had come here. Brought by the slave ships.

Two months later, when new armies arrived from the Empire, finding who was left, Arnold had decided it was time to go home. Gerald would be accompanying him. Putting their names down Arnold asked about him changing Phoebe's name from Akiko.

"Same reason I changed mine, Arnold," he said. "To fit in better. It's not safe to be looked at and sound like a foreigner. Plus it's safer. For her especially. Using her real name, people would think she was a slave. You know they get treated by some Arnold."

Arnold understood. His mother would often sing him songs in another language, but she never spoke it.

"So what is your real name?" he asked, curious now. Gerald smiled.

"Kayode."

..  
..

Arnold felt bad for Helga. She looked constantly uncomfortable on the horse, so he finally looked at having her put in a litter. Phoebe sat with her, and together they sewed. Arnold was glad that she seemed to have a friend. She knew that Helga had taken Gloria leaving in a different direction hard. Everyone she had ever known was either dead or gone. Arnold frowned. Though she put on a semi-happy face, Arnold could tell there was a feeling of gloom floating around her.

Arnold spent some time with her at days end, and during th night, but he noticed a shift in her mood and attitude towards him.

"It's the pregnancy," one of the older men told him. "My woman gets real mean when she is with child. Just stay out of her way and you'll be fine."

Arnold sensed there was more to it than that though, but kept it to himself. Something he also noticed, and pointed out to Gerald, was how Phoebe and Helga seemed to have worked out a common language between them. It seemed to made up of different languages. Occastionally he would hear one or two of the Empire language, then some of Helga's, and then what he assumed were Phoebe's. Gerald was the one who found the papers the girls had been drawing images on and were obviously using them to teach each other their own languages. They had written nothing down though.

It peeved Arnold off a bit.

He had been trying for so long, an so hard to get Helga to speak the same tongue as him, and she seemed to be doing alright, though learning slow. To find out that she had been sneakily going behind his back, learning Phoebe's native tongue and teaching her own, near enraged him.

Gerald, though also unhappy with what he had discovered, calmed Arnold down enough to not yell at Helga and go off on a rant at her. But not enough for Arnold to not find a way to punish her for what he saw as insolence.

"Keep Phoebe away from Helga, keep Helga away from Phoebe," he told Gerald.

"You don't think it's a bit extreme?" Gerald asked, slightly alarmed.

"No, they need to speak the language of the Empire, Gerald. Or they'll suffer as a consequence," he told him. "Surely you would know that!"

Oh yes, Gerald knew it. But he also knew that Arnold was also exaggerating. So many different languages were actually spoken, even in the capital, that Phoebe and Helga wouldn't even be given a second look if they were speaking in their own tongue. But he could also see that Arnold was determined to have Helga speaking the same as him, or nothing. Which was a real worry of Gerald's.

How far would his friend go to make Helga "blend in"?

…

Eight weeks later and the end of the trip was in sight. The farms were being tended by many people, and as they got closer the roads greatly improved. They went from hard packed dirt, to stone. Arnold had been sitting in the litter with Helga, until he knew they were close. He'd gotten out then, wanting to watch as the city came into view. He smiled.

A huge wall wrapped around the main city. There were houses leading up to the wall, but then a lot of bare land. They were recent additions, and made Arnold frown. Enemies could hide in those houses . . . But he shook his head and smiled again. The gates were wide open, and he could see sentries walking about on the wall. Inside were the more well-to-do houses of the aristocrats and nobles. Arnold fell into the aristocrat pool. He did note however that it wasn't as busy as it had been when he had left. Shops were opening again, but still many were closed. Indefinitely from some gossip he heard while passing by some woman. The city had obviously taken a huge hit during the sickness. On the trip back Arnold had heard that the Emperor had died from this illness. His eight year old son was to take his place. Arnold felt sorry for the young boy. He would never last. His "minders" would make sure of that.

Going through the streets he separated from Gerald near the Temple Road, a road that led to the Temple District. Arnold wondered how that district had fared. He came and got Helga out of the litter and guided her through the streets with a bag slung over his shoulder. He was glad he had listened to her all those weeks ago. Finally he saw the street he knew led to his parents home. He had had no more news of them since. He picked up the pace. Finally, the house came into view. The door was open to him before he even announced his presence. His mother stood there, her arms out, tears and a wobbly smile on her face.

"Arnold!" she cried out, and moved forward to hold him. He had let go of Helga's hand and gone into her hug.

"I thought you and father were sick?" he said, tears coming to his eyes.

"It wasn't the pox," she said. "We left as soon as we knew. We only came home a month ago after we had word it was all clear."

She finally looked over his head towards Helga, then away again, not even acknowledging her. Arnold, finally remembering she was there, turned and called her over. She walked over, looking up at his mother. She could tell, even if Arnold couldn't, that his mother did not approve of her.

"And who's this?" his mother asked, flicking a glance over Helga, then staring hard at her son. "Why have you brought a pregnant woman to our house? Is she another stray? Have you graduated from animals to humans?"

Helga bristled at the tone of the older woman's voice. Had she just called Helga an animal?

"This is Helga, mother, I wrote to you and father about her," Arnold told her. His mother shook her head.

"I never received a letter about her," she said, turning and walking away, not giving another thought to the pregnant young woman standing quietly by her son.

Arnold smiled at Helga, who tried to smile back, but was sure it looked weak. It felt weak. Her eyes began to prickle with unshed tears. Adalhard's mother liked Helga. When they had last seen each other they had sewn together. They were going to finish the blanket they started after Helga returned . . .

"She's my wife, mother," she heard Arnold say suddenly.

"Impossible, your marrying Delilah," she told him sternly. "It was all arranged before you left for war, Arnold, you know that."

"Yeah, but she died, mother," he told her.

"Died?" she asked, looking confused. "She didn't die, where did you get that from?"

Arnold stopped walking, and Helga bumped into him. She hadn't noticed he had stopped, busy as she was looking through the archway that led to a beautiful garden with a pool of water in it.

"Arnold!"

He felt like he was going to be sick, his nerves went crazy, his heartbeat went uneven, he could feel the bile coming up. He turned. And there she was.

"Delilah?"

…

They all sat at the table. Helga kept swallowing. She was nervous and was trying not to show it. She twisted her hands in the material of her dress in her lap. She felt as though she would cry. There was no mistaking the tone of voice or look on Arnold's mother's face at news that she and he were married. The red headed woman at the table kept dabbing at her eyes. Helga wanted to slap her. Silence had fallen, food had been brought out.

"Well, you will need to divorce her, Arnold," his mother said after a long pause.

'_What's divorce?_' Helga wondered silently.

"She's with child, mother, my child," he said, looking towards her. "I can't just throw her out in the street!"

"But Arnold, we had a promise," Delilah chimed in. Helga didn't like her voice. She was talking like Arnold was a baby or very small child, all high-pitched. It drove Helga mad when she heard woman talking to their children like that.

"And can you be completely sure it's _your_ child she is carrying?" his mother asked. Helga looked through her lashes at a man, Arnold's father, who was sitting back, quietly watching the drama unfold. There were elders at the table as well. Helga was pretty sure the Grandmother was not all there.

"I'm sure," he said, frustrated. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

Silence fell again, and everyone started to eat, except Helga. She wasn't interested in eating. She felt too sick to eat. She looked up to see Delilah glaring at her. She looked to see that Arnold was looking at his food. She sighed and pushed her chair away from the table and walked out of the room, turning a corner and leaning up against the wall. She wasn't wanted. Even Arnold's attitude towards her had changed. the tone he used when he spoke to her, showed her the room she was going to be staying in, even the way he would look at her. She took a deep breath and then felt a warm hand on her back. She turned to see his grandmother standing there.

"It's been a long time since baby feet walked these halls," she said excitedly. The woman continued to chat away to her, not seeming to notice Helga's discomfort. She was twenty weeks along by now, and showing. Her back hurt, and she had much pain in her pelvis. It was sometimes so bad she could not move, and it would cause her to cry. Helga just nodded and smiled weakly. She wanted to lie down, or sit down, or something!

"Grandmother," she heard Arnold's sharp voice snap. "She needs to come back to the table. She has not eaten."

He glared her way. She smirked and walked away, towards where her room was.

"I know you understand me, Helga!" she heard him call out to her. But she ignored him and continued to her room. When she got there, she went in, laid down, and cried.

She told herself it was from the pain.

…

Arnold swore under his breath as she walked away without acknowledging him.

"Arnold?" he heard Delilah say behind him. He turned and looked at her. She was pretty, with her big green eyes, and red hair. She had freckles on her cheeks, which he thought were caught once, but no longer. "Leave her be. Come with me. We can catch up and talk."

He said nothing, but followed her into one of the rooms. She took a seat on a chair.

"Why did you marry her?" she asked. Arnold looked at her. Her eyes were watery and her face was starting to get blotchy.

"I wanted to keep her from being sold at the slave market," he admitted.

"That's very noble, Arnold, but you can't just go around marrying strange women, impregnating them then bringing them home," she lectured, then sniffed. "That was so _hurtful_."

"I was told you had _died_," he said defensively.

"Well, you were told wrong."

They were quiet for a while, then Arnold admitted to her something he had not admitted to anyone else yet.

"I killed her sister and mother," he said.

He heard a gasp from Delilah, and looked up to see her covering her mouth with her hands.

"And I helped burn her village to the ground," he continued. "I took her, and some other girls, away from their home after contributing to killing their families and destroying their homes. I needed to make it up to her, okay?"

"Does she _know_?" Delilah asked. Arnold shook his head. "My goodness."

"Honestly? If she knew, she'd probably kill me."


	7. Chapter 7

(Hope this is ok. So many other things going on atm. Nothing bad, just busy. And wanting this to be a good story...)

By week twenty-five Helga had had enough. While she was trapped in the house, Arnold and Delilah would often go off out together. Helga didn't care less about Arnold and Deli_lah_ spending time together. All she wanted was out of this house. She'd been trapped in it for five weeks! It didn't help that no one other than Arnold's Grandmother spoke to her. His grandfather and father often ignored all the females in this house, unless they wanted something. She kept her frustration and anger pent up, and she knew it was going to boil over sooner or later. She had been waking up with a sore head and jaw, which she realized was because she was grinding her teeth. She had spent the last four days staring a pot in her room and finally she decided she hated the stupid thing. Growling she walked over, picked it up, and threw it at the door to her room just as it was opening.

"My Gods!" she heard a woman cry out from the other side as the door quickly closed again.

Helga stood glaring at the door, as Arnold's mother tentatively made her way into the room. Helga didn't stop glaring even as the woman closed the door and stood looking back at her.

"I want out!" Helga yelled, moving to pick up another pot.

"Please, no more throwing!" Arnold's mother cried out.

Helga stopped and glared at the woman.

"Your not happy here, are you?" she asked.

"Would you be?" Helga demanded. "But I have nowhere to go because of your son and his friends!"

"Nowhere?"

Helga didn't say anything or even seem as if she acknowledged what the woman had just said.

"Well, there is a way you can get out, but still have somewhere to go," his mother told her, moving forward. "It's called a divorce."

"Divorce?" Helga asked. "But the baby? I won't leave my baby."

"I don't care what you do with it," the woman said, waving her hand in the air. "Take it with you. Arnold can always father another child."

There was a pang in Helga's chest at the woman's cruel words, but then again, she was right.

"What do I have to do to get this divorce?" she asked.

….

Arnold was feeling good. It had been a great day. He and Delilah had gone to the market and shopped around. Separating for a moment he went in search of something for Helga. He had decided she could do with a nice, new necklace. Buying it, he had put it in a pocket and said nothing to Delilah. They had gotten something to eat, then just taken a walk to the fountain. Eventually though, the sun began to fade, and Arnold walked her home. They kissed, then he left, making his way back to his own home, smiling.

The smile was wiped off his face as soon as he walked in the door and saw his mother and Helga sitting in chairs by the pool talking. He frowned. What could they possibly be talking about?

"Hello," he called to them. He then saw his grandmother sitting quietly nearby, looking like she wanted to cry, and glaring his mothers way. There was no emotion on his father's face, and a small frown on his grandfathers. "What's going on?"

Helga stood up. "I need to talk to you."

"What about?" Arnold asked, following her as she led the way to another room. Entering it, she closed the door.

"We can get a divorce," she told him bluntly.

"A what?" Arnold asked, not quite believing what she had just said to him.

"Your mother told me all about it," Helga said, smiling. "We can divorce, we wont be married anymore, and I can leave and find a new house and take the baby with me. And you can marry Delilah and have new babies. You don't even need this one."

Arnold's jaw dropped.

"Oh, Arnold, for the sake of the God's, close your mouth," his mother told him. "This is the best thing, for all parties concerned."

He looked over at his mother, stunned. How long had she been standing there?

"You have no _right_," he finally said. "You have no right to tell my wife to divorce me. In any case, I refuse to divorce her."

Helga's smile fell from her face, and she looked at his mother, then back at him.

"But you have Delilah," she pointed out. "You love her. You don't love me."

Arnold looked at her again. It hurt to hear her say those words. Not because they weren't true, but because he wasn't sure they were. But he wasn't going to let his mother win this.

"No," he said firmly. "Absolutely not."

"Arnold, be reasonable-"

"No!" he yelled, cutting his father off. What were they doing? Shouldn't this be a private conversation? He looked towards the door. His parents and grandparents were standing ther, staring at him, waiting to see what he would say and do next.

"Let the boy and his wife alone," his Grandfather finally said. "And he's right, you had no right to interfere in his marriage."

"She'll take the baby away," his grandmother finally said, and started to weep.

"Please-"

"No, no, no!" he roared. He moved forward and grabbed Helga by her wrist, pulling her after him past his family, out the door, and then dragging her down the hallway behind him. He could feel her pulling and trying to get away.

"Arnold!" he heard his family calling out to him, but he ignored then all, shoving Helga into a room and slamming the door behind them. He turned to see Helga sitting down, biting her lip as if in pain.

"What's wrong with you?" he demanded.

"I'm sore," she said, placing her hand between her legs.

"Why, what's wrong?" he demanded. She shrugged. "Well how long has this been going on for?"

"Months," she said. "Something you'd know if you would even talk to me."

"I talk to you all the time," he snapped.

"No, you talk at me, but never to me," she snapped, glaring hatefully at him. "I want a divorce. I want to leave, no one wants me here. Not you, not your parents. Let me go!"

He stood there for a long moment, watching the young woman before him glare at him.

"No," he finally said. "No, your not leaving me."

"But why not?" Helga asked. "Why do you want to keep me locked up here?"

"Your not locked up," Arnold said.

"I haven't left this house, not once, since we came here!" she yelled at him. He looked down and noticed that there was broken pottery on the floor.

"What's this?" he asked, bending down and picking up a piece.

"An ugly, ugly pot, it was horrible, so I broke it," she declared, sounding almost proud. "Almost broke your mother's head in the process. But I missed. Fortunately, it turns out."

If he weren't feeling so mixed up inside, he would have laughed.

"_Un_fortunately, you mean," he said, sighing and walking over to sit down next to her one the bed. "She _isn't_ my birth mother."

He could see the surprise on Helga's face.

"My birth mother died during childbirth," he explained. "Camilla was my mother's sister, but after my mother's death, my father married her so I would have a mother."

"Oh," Helga said, looking away. She was going to ask him why he had a head shaped so much like Camilla's if she weren't his real mother.

"I don't believe any woman can love a child more than a real mother," he said. "Camilla, as wonderful as she was, was never as affectionate towards me as she was towards my cousin."

"Why are you telling me this?" Helga asked. "I don't need to know. And as sad as it is, I don't care."

"Because I don't want my son to not know me," he said. "And what if something went _wrong_? What if _you_ died during childbirth? What would happen to him?"

"It could be a girl," Helga told him.

"Fine, son, daughter, it doesn't change the fact that you could _die_ while giving birth, and then what?" he demanded.

Helga remained silent, thinking.

"So your cousin is now your brother?" she asked, trying to make sense of everything.

"What is going on in there?" they heard Camilla yell through the door. "Open this door!"

"Arnold, open the door son," he heard his father's voice boom.

Arnold looked at the door where he could hear his father banging on it. It was a fate of all children to be beholden to their father's. he had done as his parents had told him, just as his father had done as he was told. He grabbed Helga's arm and pulled her close.

"Don't listen to my Camilla, Helga," he told her. "She doesn't have your best interests at heart."

"And you do?" she hissed.

"More than anyone else does!"

He took the necklace from his pocket and placed it on the bed beside her before leaving.

…..

Just before dinner a visitor arrived and was shown in. Arnold's heart dropped when he saw it was his half-brother. He didn't like his cousin at all. He took note of the surprise on his cousin's face when he saw him there.

"Brother," he said, recovering quickly. "Your home?"

"Yes, for a while now," Arnold said. "This is my wife, Helga."

Helga looked up at the guy and twisted her mouth. He looked like Arnold, but ugly. She wasn't impressed. She looked away, staring out the window, without a word. 'Camilla must be rubbing off on me,' she thought, with a smirk.

"Wow, your married huh?" he said. "What happened to Delilah?"

"I had word she had died," he said, suddenly suspicious. Arnold was the only _legitimate_ child in this house, his cousin having been born from Camilla's previous marriage. Her husband had gone to war, but not come back. Arnold and his cousin were born only weeks apart. But if he had died or hadn't come back or doesn't have an heir, his cousin would get everything by default.

"Interesting," he said, looking over Helga. She fixed an icy stare on her face and directed it at him. '_Poor Arnold!'_ he thought, looking away from the woman. She was definitely not of good breed.

"Yes, we are going to the markets tomorrow," he said, smiling at Helga. "It's about time she got a proper tour. Maybe you could join us? I'm sure Delilah will be happy with you accompanying us."

Helga looked down, frowning slightly. What was he doing? Was he going to try to flog her off on him? She shuddered. She'd die before she would let him near her! He had a real creepy vibe to him, and her mother had always told her to trust her instincts.

"That's the Goddess's gift of warning", she'd always said. Helga wondered if the Goddess had warned them all about that night?

Then she shook that thought away. No, he wanted her around, at least til the baby was here. What would happen then though?

"Sound's delightful," he said. "When's dinner?"

…

The next morning Arnold and his cousin "Arnie", were waiting for her. When she was ready they went to meet Delilah and take her with them. She was waiting, but looked disappointed when she saw Arnie and Helga was with them. Helga felt a small victory, especially when Arnold took her hand instead of Delilah's, leaving Delilah to be escorted by his cousin.

"I need to visit the slave markets. I need someone new," Arnie declared. "My last one died. Terrible tragedy."

Arnold gripped Helga's hand harder. It was people like his cousin that made him happy he had gotten hold of Helga first. She would surely have met an early death otherwise.

"I don't like it there," Delilah said. "That's where the sickness came from, and it always smells so bad!"

"Then cover your nose," Arnie snapped. "What do you say, _brother_?"

Arnold cringed inside. He hated it when his cousin - as he would always be to Arnold, no matter what anyone else said - called him brother. And he was pretty sure he knew it.

"Sure, why not?" he said.

"Oh, Helga, now you'll realize just how lucky you are," Delilah piped up. Helga turned to find the girl with a sardonic smile on her face.

"I already know," she replied, touching her stomach and smiling at her. Delilah gave a little laugh and smirked at Helga. Helga chose to ignore her. She had more important things to think about.

She finally found out what Delilah meant by the smell. It was horrible. Even Helga was trying not to gag. Arnold gave her a small cloth to place over her nose and mouth. To think she almost ended up here! 'No, you would have died like Ronda and Sheena,' a nasty little voice said to her. 'Died, died, died!' she shook the thoughts that surfaced from her head. Poor Ronda, poor Sheena, and how was Gloria? Was she doing okay?

Looking up she gasped. A new line of girls had come out and she recognized one of them! She was from Adalhard's village. Nadine? She had thick, wild blonde hair, and dark skin. When time came to bid for her, Helga's voice rang out without even thinking. She and Nadine got along alright. After seeing what had happened to Ronda, she wasn't going to let it happen to another.

"Helga, what are you doing?" Arnold hissed.

"I _know_ her, six gold!" she shouted.

"Sold!" the seller cried out, pointing to her. She smiled, then saw the confused looks on other peoples faces. Why would she bid so much for that? No one went more than two gold. And there was even more stunned looks when the "slave" and her purchaser hugged each other tightly, both starting to cry, and talk to each other in another language.

"Pay him his money," Helga said, turning to Arnold. "Me and Nadine will wait for you."

Arnold's jaw dropped. Was she serious? Reluctantly he dug six gold coins from his belt. he'd only bought eight with him, and handed them over to the smelly, grinning slave trader.

"Thank you for your business," he said. Arnold stepped back. Did the man not know about oral hygiene? Arnold just gave him a tight smile, then grabbed Helga by the elbow and dragged her away, Nadine getting tugged along.

"Brother, where are you going?" Arnie's voice rang out. Arnold stopped to see that Delilah was trying to catch up to him and the other two.

"Leaving before Helga sends me to the _poor house_ purchasing someone else she knows!" he called back. He heard some chuckles and laughs from the crowd, but chose to ignore it, and get the heck out of there.

…

When they got back to the house, Helga led Nadine into her room.

"What happened?" Helga asked, leading her to the bed. Nadine looked better now that she had bathed, and was dressed nicely.

"They came in the middle of the night," she started to explain. "Some of men had just returned from seeing what was happening with your village. By the time they got there, everyone who was left was dead, and the place burned to the ground. They came back and warned everyone. Anyway, about a week before it started some of our youth went missing. And when a search party went out, some didn't come back.

"Aldahard?" Helga asked, swallowing hard.

Nadine shook her head. "He was so brave. Your name was the last word from his lips."

Helga buried her face in her hands and started to cry. Adalhard was a quiet person a majority of the time. Ever since they were kids, he was always following her around like some pale, blonde shadow.

"He took a sword to the chest," Nadine said. "I went to him, heard him say your name, but was then dragged away."

"And the missing?" Helga asked, sniffling and trying to pull herself together.

"The girls were taken, the older boys killed."

…

Arnold noticed the shift in Helga's mood. It was a dramatic one. Delilah had again stayed for dinner, this time her father was present also. Helga was eating the best he had ever seen her eat. When dinner had finished, he instead followed Helga to her room, rather than join the rest of his family and their guests in the garden.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, coming in.

"No, the man I grew up with and was supposed to marry is dead, the men of his village are gone, though Nadine tells me some actually joined the army. Her family has perished, including her husband, and many of the other girls and children have been sold. I am not happy at all. Your people dare to call us feral?" Helga asked. "I mourn them more than my own family."

Arnold looked at her, she sat down on her bed, then laid down on her side. Sighing, he realised he had to tell her his secret. He sat down, causing her to move over, then laid down next to her.

"I need to tell you something," he said seriously.

"You want the divorce?" she asked.

He shook his head, then jumped a bit as he felt something move against her stomach.

"What was that?" he asked, alarmed. Helga laughed and taking his hand placed it on her stomach, he felt it again.

"That's the baby moving around," she said. "It's kind of weird, but amazing, too."

He watched her smile and place her own hands over her stomach.

"What do you want to tell me then, if it's not about a divorce?" she asked.

Arnold took a deep breath and prayed to the Gods.

"I'm the one who killed your mother and sister."


	8. Chapter 8

It was a week before Helga spoke a word to him. One, surprisingly, agonizing week. Arnold had to admit though, he was glad she hadn't killed him. Instead she had slapped him, told him to get out, and given him the silent treatment.

He would offer to take her out, but she would ignore him and instead take Nadine with her. Twice he had found them wandering about the city, clearly lost, but Helga, of course, denied being lost. She knew exactly where she was going, they were just taking another route. Nadine gave him a small smile, and tried not to laugh. Arnold had shaken his head and walked ahead of them, and glancing behind him he would see they were following him, at a distance. Eventually he went to see Gerald, and was surprised to find that he had gotten Phoebe pregnant.

"Looking forward to it," he said with a big smile. "She's great, now that we can have proper conversations. How's everything with Helga?"

Not having seen each other since they had gotten back, Arnold told Gerald everything.

"Whoa," he said, sitting back. "What . . . whoa."

"Yeah, so now I need to find out who wrote those letters and why," Arnold said. "I have that on my mind, but mostly I just want Helga to talk to me again."

"Plan something nice and private that she can't escape," he told her. "Just don't tie her to the bed like you did in the beginning."

They both had a laugh over that one. Eventually he said his goodbye's and left, making his way home. Half way there he heard a commotion and went towards it. Helga was holding onto Nadine for dear life while someone tried to pull her away from her.

"What is going on here, Helga, Nadine?" Arnold asked, coming up to the group.

"He's trying to _steal_ her!" Helga screamed hysterically. "He's trying to take Nadine!"

Arnold frowned at the man. He recognized him as the man who had been bidding on Nadine before Helga did. They were in a bidding war for a moment, but Helga went so high. He looked to see a clearly distressed Nadine holding onto Helga.

"I offered her money for the whore," the man grumbled. "Exactly what she paid."

"Nadine is not for sale and she's not a whore!" Helga screamed. "She's my friend. Go away and leave us alone!"

The man reached forward and grabbed Helga by the neck of her dress.

"Get your filthy hands off my wife!" Arnold said, moving forward and letting his fist fly into the man's face. He let both Helga and Nadine go, and Arnold took that moment to shove the girls away. By this time some law enforcement officers had arrived and was asking what was happening. Everyone was talking at once, and Arnold shoo'd the girls away, then went and explained what he knew. Moments later, while some of the crowd fussed over Helga and Nadine, Arnold came forward with the authorities.

"You'll need to tag her," he told Helga.

"No, I would never do that to a friend!

"Then get used to this!" he said. "Just let people know she is owned. Put my name down that way should any problems arise you tell them to talk to me."

He heard her grumble under her breath and go to walk off, before he grabbed her arm.

"Start listening to me."

...

"Helga has always been stubborn," he heard someone say behind him. He turned to see Nadine standing there.

"I'm not surprised," Arnold said, looking back out at the garden.

"She'll get over what it is," she told him.

"I killed her sister and mother," he told her bluntly. Silence greeted him, though he didn't expect much more. Then he heard her move to sit next to him.

"She never liked her sister, and wasn't close to either of her parents," Nadine said thoughtfully. "But one thing she doesn't like, is change. I'll give you a little heads-up. Helga is a hopeless romantic, though she would never admit to it, or show you, but she is."

...

"What do you mean you wont be joining us for dinner?" Camilla demanded.

"I just told you why," Arnold said, walking away from her. "I'm not answerable to you."

"But Delila and-"

"I'm sure you'll have a lovely time tonight."

He took a quiet delight in her stunned look. He'd been mad with her since he had found out she had told Helga about divorce. And she was always having Delilah around, and pushing her on him. He'd come to the conclusion that if he had really cared about Delila he would be out with her, instead of trying to make things up with Helga. Since the night he had felt that baby, his baby, move in Helga's stomach, he has felt that_ that_ was where he was meant to be.

He entered his own room and saw Helga sitting at the small table he'd had placed in his room. She was twisting her fingers in her lap.

"Dinner will be brought to us shortly," he told her, taking a seat across from her. Helga nodded. "So Nadine tells me you were not close to your parents?"

Helga shook her head.

"And you did not like your sister?" he asked. Again Helga shook her head. "Then why are you so angry with me?"

"I didn't need to know," she said. "We were having a special moment, and you ruined it. You are heartless."

"I am not heartless," he said, completely offended.

"You kill a girl's family, kidnap her, impregnate her, then ignore her until it suits you," she told him. "No man with a heart would do that to a woman."

"Then why are you still here?" he demanded. "Why not run away?"

"Better one man, than many," she said, glaring at him.

"Excuse me?" he said, sitting back in shock.

"You heard me," she snapped. "I still want the divorce. I have thought about it. You can keep the baby."

Arnold didn't miss the catch in her voice as she said the last part.

"I don't wish to remain here, as your toy, to use for your own pleasure," she continued. "After the baby is born, and I have recovered, I will leave. I will take Nadine with me."

Arnold shook his head. "I thought you were smarter than this."

"What do you mean?" she demanded.

"Two woman alone out there?" he said, laughing. "Good luck. You say you would rather be used by only one man, then many men. Out there you will have no protection and no choice. There's always someone just around the corner who will be eager to snap you both up and sell you off to the highest bidder. Welcome to the Empire!"

"Camilla said-"

"Camilla wants you gone!" he yelled at her. "She doesn't care about you, Helga. She knows nothing. None of these woman do. They walk around like they're something special, like they know what they're talking about, but they don't. They're kept woman. She hasn't had to do anything for herself. Never cooked, or cleaned, she never even breastfed her own baby. She had a wet-nurse do it. Someone else fed her baby."

"So I am a kept woman?" Helga asked. He could see the fire starting to burn in her eyes. "Is that it?"

"No, your too feral to be a kept woman," he said.

"Who are you calling feral, Master Running-Around-Killing-People and burning villages to the ground?" she demanded, standing up and putting her face into his. "And I'm feral? I didn't kidnap a maiden and steal her virginity!"

"You weren't complaining at the time, or any of the times thereafter!" he yelled back at her. Then he saw movement from the corner of his eye. Nadine and another servant were standing there, looking awkward. "Bring us our food please."

He watched as Helga stood there, defiant at first, before deciding to take her seat. But only after her stomach grumbled. Sea-God's Trident, the woman would starve herself to try to prove a point. Stubborn didn't even begin to describe her. Arnold felt only admiration. And something else . . .

They ate silently for a while, glaring at each other across the table every now and then. When they had finished, Arnold told Nadine and the servant to leave, and informed them that his wife would be sleeping in here tonight.

"Oh, so I'm not good enough to take out in public, but I'm good enough to share a bed with, is that it?" she demanded. "Well maybe I don't want to share your bed."

"Shut up," Arnold grumbled at her. "I'm tired, I want to bathe, then go to bed. Not argue with you. your so quarrelsome. And I've taken you out in public."

"Once," Helga snorted.

"Undress me and yourself," he told her. "We'll bathe then go to bed."

"Why do you want me here?" she asked.

Arnold was silent as he thought over his answer. How was she going to react?

"Because your my wife, and a wife belongs in her husband's bed."

...

He immediately regretted it the next morning. He'd hardly had any sleep. Helga had not laid still, she was a restless sleeper, and kept getting up to use the latrine. Each time she moved or made a sound, he would jolt awake, habit from sleeping so lightly while in the army. Any vibration or sound could be an enemy about to kill you, or a wild animal looking for dinner.

he looked over at her. she was staring up at the ceiling, a blank look on her face.

"I don't sleep well at the moment," she said quietly. "You'd sleep better without me."

"Probably," he said. Closing his eyes he kissed her bare shoulder. He felt her flinch, and he looked up into her confused eyes.

"You haven't kissed me since we got here," she said in an accusing tone. "Why are you eager to kiss me now?"

"I just want to feel you," he said, moving closer. He felt a foot or maybe a hand, move across her stomach on his. "What's does it feel like?"

"Sometimes it feels like someone has jabbed you in the stomach," she said, jabbing him with the tips of her fingers. He winced. "But sometimes it feels like . . . I can't explain it. Like knuckles, rolling across your tummy." She rolled her knuckles along his stomach. He smiled. She smiled, then pressed hard onto his bladder. "And that's how it feels most of the time. But all from the inside."

"Really?" he asked. She shrugged.

"It's a pretty indescribable feeling," she said. "That's the best I can do. It's something you need to experience yourself. No one can explain it to you."

Arnold rubbed his hand over her belly smiling at the movement.

"Not long now," he said. He heard Helga take a deep, shaky breath.

"No, not long at all."


End file.
